


In Six Inch Heels

by awesomefatkitty



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Draco Malfoy, Draco Malfoy In Heels, Draco Malfoy in Makeup, Fluff, Gay, Gay Sex, Happy Ending, Harry swears a lot, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Nonbinary Draco Malfoy, POV Harry Potter, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shoe Kink, Smut, Top Harry Potter, everyone is fine with draco in heels, everyone is fine with draco in makeup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:08:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26984902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awesomefatkitty/pseuds/awesomefatkitty
Summary: Harry could not stop thinking about Malfoy’s long, shapely legs and wondering what it might be like to see Malfoy take longer strides in those heels. Or, more embarrassingly, to have Malfoy wrap those legs around his waist and press his heeled feet into Harry’s arse as they– Harry flushed a cherry red and pulled the curtains on his bed closed. Fuck, he was so screwed.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 8
Kudos: 445





	In Six Inch Heels

The first time had been a complete accident.

Harry realized he had forgotten his potions book and decided to detour from back to his dorm to pick it up before he went to lunch. The eighth-year common room was empty and his stomach was grumbling, so with nothing to distract him, he took the stairs two at a time to the second floor.

He hesitated at the door to his room, hearing the familiar soft music drifting from inside. He didn’t share Care of Magical Creatures with his roommate – the only class they didn’t share, really – but he hadn’t expected him to be in their room just now. The perks of being a returning eighth year, as McGonagall was fond of calling them, meant they got their own spacious dormitory and only had to share a (surprisingly large) sleeping space with one other person. The unfortunate side of being McGonagall’s leading example of house unity meant that his roommate this year was none other than Draco Malfoy.

Two months into the term and things were going surprisingly well. Harry and Malfoy didn’t talk much, and he actually somehow saw very little of the blonde despite all the classes and the room they shared. It was weird, but not unpleasant. Malfoy was quiet, withdrawn. It bothered Harry a little to not see the fire he was used to stoking in the taller man, but he always reminded himself that it could be worse. They could have punched or hexed each other by now.

So, steeling himself for the possibility of actually having to talk to his roommate in almost a week, Harry gently pushed open the door and immediately froze. It was clear that Malfoy hadn’t heard or seen him, his back still turned towards Harry. Malfoy was standing between his desk and his bed in his pajamas, not that that was an unusual sight despite it being the middle of the day. What _was_ unusual were the pair of heels that Malfoy was sporting.

The heels were a beautiful cherry red (almost a Gryffindor red, really), a color that surprisingly complimented Malfoy’s pale skin. The slim heel on them was easily six inches, stretching Malfoy’s lithe frame even higher than Harry thought possible. A one-inch thick strap looped over Malfoy’s toes and connected over the top of his lean foot to another, more ribbon-like strap tied around Malfoy’s thin ankle into a bow at his heel.

Malfoy was wearing a pair of cotton shorts that had been rolled a few times at the top, which gave Harry a clear view of his long, lean, lightly muscled legs that somehow looked even more shapely with the heels lifting them up. Harry didn’t know Malfoy’s grooming habits, but the smooth skin of his legs wasn’t new. Harry didn’t know if it was natural or intentional; he had never asked.

A short mirror Malfoy must have conjured or transfigured lay on the ground against the wall. He was taking small steps back and forth in it, practically spinning on his toes when he turned to walk the other way. His focus was entirely on his feet and legs in the mirror, admiring his new shoes.

And they were new, Harry could tell. On top of Malfoy’s desk was a box Harry recognized as the one that had been delivered to Malfoy that morning at breakfast. It had been slightly enlarged and it was open, tissue paper spilling over the sides. The heels must have come out of the box, though Harry wasn’t sure who had sent them.

Harry was still standing in the doorway, mouth slightly agape, as he took in Malfoy’s tall, lean figure. Harry had admitted to himself back in fifth year that Malfoy was rather attractive to look at, and his opinion on that matter had only grown once they were back at Hogwarts and sharing a room together. This, though. This was a new feeling entirely. His stomach flipped and his heart raced and Harry was sure a flush was starting to creep up his face as he appreciatively watched Malfoy model his beautiful footwear. And then Malfoy finally caught sight of Harry on his next spin, and this time the blonde immediately froze.

“Potter,” Malfoy greeted him coolly; and though his body was rigid and stiff, obviously tense at having been caught wearing a pair of women’s heels, Harry could clearly see the panic Malfoy was trying to tamp down in the blonde’s grey eyes.

“I’m just here for my book,” Harry said quickly. He snatched the potions book up off his desk where he had left it and then immediately spun around, practically running from the room.

Harry didn’t see Malfoy in any of the rest of their classes that day, or at dinner for that matter either. When Harry got back to their shared room, the curtains around Malfoy’s bed had been pulled shut and the blonde didn’t emerge for the rest of the night. The open package that had been on Malfoy’s desk when Harry was in the room last had disappeared, though to where Harry wasn’t sure. When Harry woke up the next morning, Malfoy was already gone.

It took two full weeks of being more ignored than usual, but when Malfoy seemed to realize that Harry wasn’t going to taunt him or spread the news over the school, the blonde started to relax. They hadn’t been very friendly to start with, so it was a little hard to tell when they had gone back to their usual, chilled routine, but one morning Malfoy was still in the room when Harry got up and that seemed to be that.

Except, Harry could not stop thinking about Malfoy’s long, shapely legs and wondering what it might be like to see Malfoy take longer strides in those heels. Or, more embarrassingly, to have Malfoy wrap those legs around his waist and press his heeled feet into Harry’s arse as they– Harry flushed a cherry red and pulled the curtains on his bed closed. _Fuck_ , he was so screwed.

\- - -

The second time had been on a dare.

It was the second night of winter break and the eighth years that had remained behind for the holidays had all decided to spend a cozy night in with the bottles of peach whiskey and coconut rum that Zabini had pulled from his trunk. They were all several drinks in, pleasantly warm with pink cheeks and bright eyes, when Lisa had suggested they all get to know each other better with a little game of truth-or-dare. Buzzed as they all were, it was almost unanimously agreed upon. Even Hermione had said that it could be fun.

“Dare,” Malfoy said immediately, when Parkinson had turned towards him. Her responding smile was absolutely feral, and Malfoy flushed a light shade of pink. Harry wondered if he was going to change his mind, but Malfoy just lifted his chin higher.

“I dare you to put on your favorite shoes,” Parkinson had practically purred. Malfoy’s face had flushed a deeper shade and Harry had to look down at his lap as, unbidden, images of Malfoy in nothing but those red heels came to mind.

“That’s rather tame,” Parvati had mumbled when Malfoy disappeared up the stairs, the disappointment evident in her tone of voice. Parkinson just turned a grin in her direction.

“Just wait,” Parkinson practically sing-songed. Not a moment later, Malfoy reappeared at the top of the stairs and everyone fell quiet.

Malfoy was wearing a pair of fitted black slacks tonight, so the lean lines of his legs were still visible though not nearly as they had been that November afternoon. This time, however, Malfoy was sporting a pair of cerulean blue pumps. The heel was thinner, sharper almost, than the red pair had been, though still six inches tall. However, the rounded toe was platformed, so his foot wasn’t as arched as the last time Harry had seen him in heels. For a brief moment, Harry wondered just how many pairs of heels Malfoy owned.

Harry’s breath caught in his throat as Malfoy began to descend the stairs, moving as gracefully in the heels as he did his usual footwear. Malfoy’s face was still flushed pink, clearly not just as an effect from their drinking, but he held his head high as he strode back over to his seat on the couch and dropped down beside Pansy as though nothing at all were off.

Hannah was the first one to speak.

“Those are beautiful, Draco,” she breathed, clearly admiring the shoes while Harry was trying not to clearly admire Malfoy. “Are they Blackwood?”

“Le Couteau, actually,” Malfoy said smoothly and if Harry didn’t know any better, he’d think the man was preening from the admiration.

Harry didn’t know anything about fashion, but he had listened to the Gryffindor girls in his year talk enough to recognize the names of the high-end brands. Hannah’s eyebrows rose at Malfoy’s response and Harry realized that Le Couteau must be one of the top high-end wizarding brands.

“Truth or dare, Abbott?”

The game moved on without any more remarks about Malfoy’s shoes, even when Malfoy crossed his legs and his heeled foot dangled in clear view. Harry, however, was unable to think about anything else.

“Truth or dare, Harry?” Parvati broke through his thoughts. He realized he was staring at Malfoy’s feet and flushed a bright red as he tore his gaze away and realized that everyone was watching him with various stages of amusement. Malfoy was looking directly at him with an expression Harry simply couldn’t interpret.

“Err, truth,” Harry managed to say, taking a large sip of the rum and soda to parch his suddenly extremely dry mouth. Parvati grinned at him.

“Tell us how you really feel about Malfoy’s shoes,” she said simply. Harry was certain the flush on his face was creeping down his neck and he looked again at Malfoy, who raised a single thin brow at him.

“I like them a lot,” he rushed out. He didn’t know if it was the spirit of the game, as the others had all been surprisingly honest tonight, or the alcohol giving him the courage to speak freely, but the responding blush on Malfoy’s face was worth it.

“Do you like them as shoes, or do you like them on Malfoy?” Parvati teased and Harry somehow just turned redder. The rest of the group burst out with laughter and giggles at his nonverbal reply. Perhaps they had all had quite a bit of drink that night.

“I already went,” Harry said roughly and forced himself to look away from Malfoy. “Truth or dare, ‘Moine?”

With as much alcohol as had been flowing through them, the group was easy to distract. But Malfoy didn’t tear his dark grey gaze away from Harry and Harry couldn’t quite keep his own gaze anywhere else for long. And every time he caught a glimpse of Malfoy’s bouncing heeled foot out of the corner of his eye, he couldn’t stop himself from wondering if the skin of Malfoy’s ankle would be soft beneath his lips or of the idea of tucking the heel just over his shoulder while Malfoy lay spread out in front of him. Harry was _beyond_ screwed.

\- - -

The third time had been completely intentional.

The winter break was almost over and the eighth years had decided to have one last hurrah down at the new pub that had just opened off a side street in Hogsmeade. Malfoy had been getting ready in Parkinson and Hannah’s room, though Harry wasn’t entirely sure why. Malfoy had gotten closer with Hannah over the first term considering his best friend was rooming with her, so Harry supposed it wasn’t the strangest thing he had heard. Still, he found himself on edge as he waited in the common room with Hermione and the other boys for them to come down. Even Parvati and Lisa had beaten the trio downstairs.

Hannah and Parkinson arrived at the top of the stairs first. They were practically glowing with excitement as they came down, both trying extremely hard to contain their glee. Only a few moments later, Malfoy appeared, and Harry felt his heart try to leap out of his throat.

Malfoy was wearing a pair of extremely tight black jeans and a snug, thin, pale pink long-sleeved shirt with V-neck that would normally button closed but had been left loosely open to reveal an expanse of smooth, pale collar. Malfoy was just pulling on a faux fur cloak that completed the ensemble.

The cloak was the same rose pink as the heels on Malfoy’s feet. The shoes weren’t quite as tall as the last two pairs Harry had seen and the heel was a little thicker, though not the least bit chunky. Very thin straps sat close together and covered almost all of Malfoy’s foot horizontally. The straps were connected by a vertical strap that ran up the middle of his foot and then looped around his ankle before curving over the back of his heel to connect to the sole of the shoe once more. Despite how cold it was outside at this time of year, the tips of Malfoy’s toes were visible, revealing magenta painted toenails. As Malfoy descended the stairs, Harry could just make out long, pointed fingernails that had been painted the same color.

What really caught Harry’s attention this time around, however, was that Malfoy’s face had been made up. Harry didn’t know much about makeup, but he knew the slightly bronze shade over Malfoy’s cheekbones and jawline had been done intentionally to make his face appear even more sculpted than it usually did. His lips had been painted a shade darker than his heels and the magenta eyeshadow matched his painted nails. His lashes were darker and looked longer due to the presence of mascara, and his eyes were lined in a smooth black that winged ever so slightly at the edges. The pink complemented Malfoy’s pale skin and artfully tousled white-blonde hair perfectly. He looked absolutely gorgeous, Harry thought.

Malfoy’s grey eyes nervously scanned the gathered students of the common room, before settling on Harry. He must have seen something in the way that Harry was drinking him in because the blonde’s gaze grew dark and hungry. Harry could feel the fluttering in his stomach, could hear his heart beating loudly in his ears, and even though he and Malfoy had still hardly talked this semester (though that was starting to change), he wanted nothing more than to drag the blonde back up those stairs and into their shared room.

 _Fuck_.

“What’s that?” Ron asked, and Harry turned red as he realized he had said the swear aloud. With great difficulty, he tore his gaze away from his roommate and turned to smile at his best friend.

“Ready, mate?” he asked instead, and the redhead grinned, slinging an arm around the girl at his side. Hermione made a sound of exasperation, but Harry didn’t miss how she let herself be tucked into her boyfriend’s side.

Other than a few complements from some of the girls, no one said a word to Malfoy about his makeup or his heels. Instead, the group acted as though nothing about this was different than usual and made their way down to Hogsmeade. With the large number of young adults that had started to move into the town after the war, the businesses seemed to be responding. The new pub was light and cozy, the ‘top hits’ music louder than The Three Broomsticks or The Hogs Head, and the clientele were almost all under thirty.

Harry slid into a large, rounded booth tucked away in the corner of the pub, quickly followed by the blonde he couldn’t stop thinking about and could barely stop looking at. He only hoped he wasn’t completely obvious, but the knowing looks Hermione kept shooting his way told him that was probably not the case.

A few chairs were pulled over to the exposed side of the table, but most of the students pushed into the booth anyways. Before he knew it, Harry was sitting with Hermione close to him on one side and Malfoy even closer to him on the other. He felt nothing but heat where part of Malfoy’s leg was pressed against his and every time Malfoy moved his legs, he could feel the blonde’s heel brush against his calf. He bit his lip and picked at the label on his bottle of stout as he tried not to hyper focus on the sparks lighting him up with every brush. Naturally, he was completely unsuccessful.

Even as others around them called for several rounds, Harry didn’t get nearly as drunk as he had during their game of truth or dare. By the time the night was winding down, he felt only a pleasant buzz steadily thrumming through his body. To be totally honest, he wasn’t sure how much of that was the two and a half beers he had had and how much of it was the blonde pressing even closer against his side as the night wore on.

“Last round, friends,” Neville said far louder than was necessary as he set the tray of drinks on the table. Harry muttered a thanks as he reached for his last bottle of beer. He hadn’t finished the one in front of him, but he switched it out for the colder drink instead. And as he settled back down, he felt Malfoy’s heeled foot brush against his leg again. Except this time, Malfoy wasn’t moving it away.

Harry turned to look at the blonde as Malfoy instead began to brush his foot lightly up Harry’s calf. The blonde was deep in conversation with Parkinson beside him and Hannah across from them, paying Harry no mind at all. Harry was just thinking that perhaps the whole thing was an accident when Malfoy’s hand suddenly settled on top of his thigh and the pressure of his heel against Harry’s leg increased.

“Fuck,” Harry hissed quietly, closing his eyes in an attempt to get his bearings. His mouth was dry and his heart was racing as a pool of warmth began to coil in his abdomen. When he opened his eyes again, Malfoy was looking right at him with a smirk on his face. Harry licked his lips, he couldn’t help it, and when he watched Malfoy’s gaze dip down, he suddenly found himself biting back a groan. Surely his sensitive reaction was just the alcohol buzzing through his veins?

Except Harry still hadn’t had a sip of his new beer, which meant he’d only had two and a half bottles in the four hours they’d been there. The buzz he was feeling was definitely not from his drinks. Malfoy’s hand didn’t move from the top of Harry’s thigh, but his foot – which Harry realized was the one opposite him as Malfoy sat with his legs tightly crossed – continued to slide up his leg. Harry clenched his fists on top of the table and tore his gaze away from Malfoy, only to see Hermione looking right at him with both brows raised. He flushed a deep red and looked down at his drink instead.

Harry was startled by a sudden rush of cold air as Malfoy pulled away and it was only then that he realized that everyone was getting up to leave. Malfoy walked ahead of him the entire way back to the castle, not once looking back at Harry. That was just fine with him, though, because it meant he could appreciatively watch the sway of Malfoy’s hips and how perkier his arse looked thanks to his heels. Harry didn’t realize how obvious his staring was until Hermione suddenly elbowed him in the side and cleared his throat to get his attention. He looked at her with an apologetic grin and a deep flush on his face.

“Just remember you have to room with him for another semester,” Hermione whispered, and Harry flushed even deeper. He had been doing that a lot lately.

Malfoy went right up to their room when they returned. Harry made to follow, but somehow Ron roped him into the conversation (or argument, really) that he was having with Terry about the Cannons and almost an hour had passed before he was able to pull himself away and make his way upstairs.

He paused at the door again. There wasn’t any music coming from inside, but light was spilling out from under the door, so he knew Malfoy was still awake. His heart was already beating faster, his stomach already fluttering as he tried to tamp down the nerves. He didn’t know _why_ he felt so nervous, why his Gryffindor courage was failing him now, but he thought of Malfoy teasing him in the pub and the conversations they had finally started having over break and his mouth ran dry and he realized with horror that he didn’t just fancy Malfoy. He actually _liked_ him. Fuck.

Steeling himself once more, he took a deep breath and stepped into their room.

Malfoy was directly across from the door, leaning back against the desk with his arms across his chest and a smirk lighting up his face. He had removed his makeup and had changed into a pair of pajamas (a pair of short cotton shorts and a tight t-shirt), but he was still wearing heels. Except, they weren’t the same heels. They were a pair of black strappy stilettos, thin straps crisscrossing over the top of his foot and wrapping around his ankle. For a moment, Harry stopped breathing. Seriously, how many pairs of heels did his roommate own?

Harry let his gaze travel slowly up Malfoy’s body, over his long legs and sharp hips, over his flat abdomen and lean chest and sharp shoulders. His eyes paused briefly over the faded Dark Mark, but he had grown quite used to seeing it over last semester and he quickly drew his eyes away to dance along Malfoy’s pronounced collar bone and his long pale neck before meeting the blonde’s darkening gaze.

The door clicked softly behind him and it was like a switch had been flipped. In a few short strides, Malfoy was across the room and crowding Harry against the door. He pressed his body flat against Harry’s, his hands coming to rest on the door on either side of Harry’s head. Malfoy was already taller than Harry, but with the extra height from his heels Harry had to crane his neck to look into Malfoy’s face from this angle. He didn’t mind even a little bit. The grey of Malfoy’s eyes was slowly disappearing, the black of his pupils swallowing it as they dilated. Harry licked his lips again, groaning out loud this time when Malfoy’s gaze dropped down to watch.

“I heard you really like my heels,” Malfoy drawled, dipping his head so that his lips grazed Harry’s ever so slightly. “What about them is it that you like, Potter?”

Harry could feel himself grow hard at the rough tone in Malfoy’s voice. The blonde was already flush against him and Harry could feel the blonde responding to their proximity. Their feelings couldn’t be clearer. Now was not the time to be nervous. Now was the time for his Gryffindor bravery.

Harry brought his hands up to Malfoy’s hips, slowly sliding them across his lower back and then down to squeeze the blonde’s arse. Gripping the perky, tight globes, Harry ground Malfoy’s hips against him. The height difference made it so that they weren’t really near each other, but Harry ground his hardening length against Malfoy’s thigh as he trapped the blonde’s hard prick against his stomach. Malfoy groaned this time.

“I like how tight your arse looks in them,” Harry murmured against Malfoy’s lips. He gave the blonde a squeeze as if to emphasize his point. “I like how bloody beautiful your confidence in them makes you look. They’re bloody gorgeous on you.”

And then Harry was kissing Malfoy properly. Their lips slotted together and when Malfoy moaned against him, Harry took the opportunity to slip his tongue into the blonde’s mouth. Malfoy met him with equal intensity, dropping his hands from the door to Harry’s face in order to better angle the shorter man’s head so he could deepen the kiss. Harry slid his hands back around to Malfoy’s hips and used the opportunity to push Malfoy back and guide them over to the closest bed – Harry’s.

Malfoy tumbled backwards as soon as his legs hit the bed and Harry fell down with him, neither of them breaking away from their kiss. Malfoy wrapped his arms around Harry’s shoulders and brought his legs up to wrap them around Harry’s waist, crossing his heeled feet at the ankle to lock them behind Harry’s back and trap him against the blonde. Harry moaned as the heels pressed into him through his shirt and he pushed his body even closer to Malfoy.

Malfoy was all lean muscle, but Harry was still stronger. He tucked one arm beneath the blonde and using the other one to brace himself on the bed, scooped Malfoy up against him and propelled them both further up the bed. Malfoy moaned into his mouth and bit down on Harry’s lip. Harry laughed softly into the kiss and then pulled back.

Malfoy keened, trying to pull Harry back down, but Harry managed to evade his grasp. He grasped Malfoy’s legs and pulled them from behind him. Malfoy looked up at him and a brief moment of panic flashed across his face, but then Harry just pulled his shirt over his head and Malfoy’s gaze brightened again as he drank in Harry’s broad, brown chest. He’d filled out more since the long year in Dean’s Forest, no longer the scrawny starved boy of his youth. Malfoy reached out, slowly running his hands across Harry’s taut abdomen and then up over the defined muscles of his chest and across his broad shoulders. Harry let out a gentle sigh and then leaned back down, placing a soft kiss against Malfoy’s lips.

He began to press open mouthed kisses to Malfoy’s neck, tugging at the t-shirt Malfoy wore and pausing in his ministrations only to pull it off the blonde. Then Harry pressed their bare chests together and they both groaned at the feeling. Malfoy wrapped his arms around Harry’s shoulders again, pulling him back in for a kiss, and Harry obliged until they had to break away for air.

Harry slowly kissed his way down Malfoy’s neck again, licking and sucking and kissing down over his chest and tracing the long thin scars from sixth year with his tongue and not a word. Malfoy gasped and arched up into him, tangling his hands in Harry’s hair as he mouthed his way farther down over the blonde’s abdomen. Harry tugged on Malfoy’s shorts, pulling his pants down with them, and quickly discarded them with their shirts.

Then Harry sat up and looked down at the nearly naked man before him. There was nothing artful about Malfoy’s tousled hair anymore and his face was pink stained and open, his pupils blown wide as he gazed quietly up at Harry. He was breathing hard, his chest heaving and his abdomen quivering under Harry’s gaze. And then Harry’s eyes trailed down further, looking down at Malfoy’s long lean length curving upwards from a small patch of white-blonde curls. A pearl of pre-come beaded at the top of Malfoy’s pink head and Harry licked his lips again. Slowly, agonizingly, he wrapped one hand around Malfoy’s prick and give it a single firm stroke. Malfoy’s eyes fluttered closed and his head fell back as he let out a long, low moan.

“M-my shoes,” Malfoy managed to get out between strokes. Harry grinned and pulled his hand away, his grin growing as Malfoy whimpered at the loss of touch.

Harry reached behind him and wrapped his hand around one of Malfoy’s ankles. Malfoy easily bent his knee when Harry brought his heeled foot up and let the dark-haired man lift his leg higher until his foot was even with Harry’s head.

“I think we’ll leave them on,” Harry said softly and then turned his head slightly to press a kiss to the inside of Malfoy’s ankle just above the strap. The skin was softer than he had imagined it to be. Malfoy’s face flushed pink, his mouth dropping open as he gazed up wantonly at Harry and the dark-haired man just smiled.

“Oh, fuck,” Malfoy groaned, and Harry chuckled, flicking his tongue out to trace along the strap that looped around the pale ankle. Malfoy’s breathing hitched and he bit his lower lip to keep from moaning. Challenge accepted, Harry thought.

Harry bit down on the soft flesh of Malfoy’s calf, just above his ankle, and sucked on the skin until a small, dark mark appeared beneath his lips. Malfoy whimpered, but only bit down harder on his lip. Harry licked and kissed along Malfoy’s ankle, loosening the strap only enough to slip his thumb between the shoe and Malfoy’s foot in order to press it into the middle of Malfoy’s arch. Harry firmly stroked his thumb down over Malfoy’s arch without dislodging the shoe, biting again at his calf, and finally Malfoy released a long, soft moan.

“You tease,” Malfoy moaned at him and Harry laughed before hooking Malfoy’s foot over his shoulder.

He continued to mouth his way up the inside of Malfoy’s leg, lowering himself down between Malfoy’s legs. With one leg hooked over his shoulder and the other spreading out, Harry leaned his head down and pressed a kiss to the head of Malfoy’s prick. Malfoy moaned and arched his hips up. Harry smiled and then swallowed the blonde down.

“Oh _fuck_ ,” Malfoy groaned again, his hips arching up off the bed as he scrambled for purchase at the sudden envelope of heat around his hardened length.

Harry traced the underside of Malfoy’s prick with his tongue as he pulled his head back up, and just before the length popped out of his mouth completely, he hollowed his cheeks and dropped his head back down. Malfoy tangled his hands in Harry’s hair, and Harry let him guide the pace as he licked and sucked. He pulled his mouth off only for a moment to murmur a lubrication spell and then he was swallowing Malfoy back down as he gently traced Malfoy’s entrance with a slicked-up finger.

“Please, Harry,” Malfoy moaned, and Harry hummed against the blonde’s length, which only made him moan again and arch his hips. Harry took the opportunity to push a finger into Malfoy, and then another, curling them up into Malfoy’s body. Malfoy rocked himself on Harry’s fingers and Harry knew he had found the blonde’s prostate when the man let out a loud, low moan and tangled his fingers tightly in Harry’s hair.

Harry stretched Malfoy open, adding a third finger and curling it upwards to hit that bundle of nerves over and over again, not once pausing his mouth as he did so. Malfoy was a squirming, mewling mess, rocking himself back and forth between Harry’s fingers and Harry’s mouth. He dug his heel into Harry’s back, urging him forward, and Harry moaned around Malfoy’s prick. Just as Malfoy was reaching his peak, Harry released him from his mouth with a pop and pulled his fingers away.

“What the fuck?” Malfoy spat, his gaze hardening as he looked down at Harry between his thighs. But Harry just grinned and pulled himself up Malfoy’s body to capture the blonde’s lips with his.

Before Malfoy could push him away and angrily demand an explanation, Harry was hooking both of Malfoy’s heeled feet over his shoulders and pushing his own neglected length into Malfoy. Malfoy cried out, reaching up for Harry to pull him back down against him. Malfoy’s legs slipped off of Harry’s shoulders once Harry was fully seated inside him and he wrapped his legs around Harry’s waist instead, pulling him in as deep as he could. Harry’s deep groans were swallowed by Malfoy’s mouth.

Malfoy wrapped his arms around Harry’s shoulders almost as tightly as he had wrapped his legs around him. When Malfoy pressed his heels against Harry’s lower back, the dark-haired man began to move. He took his time at first, adjusting his hips slightly with each thrust until he found Malfoy’s prostate again. When Malfoy grasped at him with increasing desperation, he knew that he had found it and he began to slam into the blonde with increasing speed, making sure to hit his prostate with every thrust.

Harry felt his orgasm building and as his thrusts began to grow erratic, he slipped a hand between them and wrapped his fingers around Malfoy’s prick. He gripped him firmly and began to stroke him in time with his thrusts, brushing his thumb over his slit with every upwards slide. Malfoy melted beneath him, pressing his heels into Harry’s arse to push him in deeper and urge him onwards as he clawed at Harry’s back to keep him as close as possible.

“Merlin, Harry, yes,” Malfoy moaned against his lips. “Please, Harry, more. Don’t stop. Harry. Harry. _Harry.”_

Harry had no idea Malfoy would be so vocal in bed, but _fuck_ , did he love how responsive the blonde was. Malfoy bucked up against him and then suddenly he was coming, striping their stomachs and their chests white.

“Oh fuck, Draco,” Harry moaned as Malfoy clenched down around him. And as he wrung the last of Malfoy’s orgasm from the body beneath him, he let his own orgasm take over. He pushed his hips forwards, once, twice, three more times, emptying himself in the man pressed tightly against him.

They lay tangled together afterwards, both of them still catching their breath and winding down.

“Can I take my shoes off now, Potter?” Malfoy mumbled into Harry’s shoulder and Harry laughed. He managed enough strength to lean down and pull the heels off, giving each of Malfoy’s feet a gentle squeeze as he did.

“That was brilliant,” Harry said as he laid back down against Malfoy and wrapped an arm around his waist. “You’re brilliant.”

“If I had known wearing my heels in front of you would lead to that, I would have done it years ago,” Malfoy sighed. He seemed to realize what he had said because his body suddenly stiffened and he began to draw back. But Harry just laughed and tightened his grip around Malfoy’s waist, pulling him flush against his body.

“You absolutely should have,” Harry said, smiling down at the man as he tucked him into his side. Tentatively, Malfoy smiled back.

\- - -

The fourth time was completely intentional too. And the fifth. And the sixth.

It turned out that Draco Malfoy owned thirty-two pairs of heels. And Harry loved seeing him in every single one.

**Author's Note:**

> This was fun to write. Just a little smut to liven up your day. I do not have a beta so all mistakes are mine. Please leave a comment to let me know what you think!


End file.
